


Defilement

by DramatistArtisan



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Loss of Virginity, Virgin Kink, demon au by 1V1, not a really nice happy fanfic but whts new from me, religious kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-11-09 04:57:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17995277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramatistArtisan/pseuds/DramatistArtisan
Summary: Evil cannot enter the house of the Gods if their light pours into its walls and down his followers. A demon no matter of status or powerful, demons cannot enter Their house of worship. Of course, that is if the church pure in its preaching and practices; no church is pure with those born into sin dwell inside.





	1. Discovery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1V1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1V1/gifts).



Evil cannot enter the house of the Gods if their light pours into its walls and down his followers. A demon no matter of status or powerful, demons cannot enter  _ Their  _ house of worship. Of course, that is if the church pure in its preaching and practices; no church is pure with those born into sin dwell inside. The demon of high status who named himself Valerius after the man who summoned him (killed promptly after completing his contract) adored how these  _ humans _ looked him as if he has the ear of the Gods. Adorable how fancy, poetic, gospel-like phases. Such stupid creatures to think, to believe, the words of a middle man instead of simply going to  _ try  _ and speak to the Gods themselves.

“Father, your words are truly helping the flock not falter in their ways.” Then there is silly, foolish, you. A year into your life of complete service to your Gods, a life of remaining pure to be the bride of your Gods. He wonders how would look squirming trying to adjust to his-- “Thank you, sister. However, it is  **_you_ ** I should be thanking for gathering them hear to listen.” Playing the sweet priest who cares for all those who enter and join the church; the original Valerius, an old Vesuvian man, was nothing like this. That man was mean, an “ass” as one villager called him, and a homewrecker popular with some of the wives.

It was humorous to see the husbands and wives panic when he lied about being the old priest’s son. Left some couples on  _ edge. _

Your smile is wide full of glee, “Well, all do is tell them never lose faith,” Looking out as people leave the church, one coughs violently in distance; the demon dislikes how it makes you frown. “Now more than ever.”

Ah, yes, the plague brought by forces the old man was trying to get bottom of.

“Indeed.” Amazing what creatures like you will do to stay alive. Valerius always found that fascinating perhaps because the demon he long ago bound to, now merged as one, have an interest in humans. “You should go home and rest before it gets dark, sister.” Taking your hand in his own, he feels how you quiver at his physical affections towards you.

_ How would it be like if he held my hand all the time? _

The many perks of being a demon are the ability to hear the voice of one desire, the truth behind the mask of purity, yet, you are not the usual  _ virgin nuns _ he has basked in like before. No, unlike most who were born into the church etc., you had a life outside of this “ _ divine _ ” lifestyle.

_ I wonder if he would be a nice husband… someone to share nights with… is he lonely too? _

You have hopes, dreams, and very human desires. More than once has he listened to your desires, dull ideas of sex, but he expects that from a virgin. Especially one who has not even glimpse at erotic literature. It will amuse him to see how you look confronted with the truth about sex, about how rough it can be, about the borders between pain and bliss; he hides his changing left hand behind his back as you leave the church.

 

**_Soon…_ **

 

There is a plague… one that kills indiscriminately taking most in its wake. Prayer to the Gods seems to be not working, the people are losing faith, worst it appears as if they are going to let their dark nature out. You hate the helpless you endure, the consistent fighting through the means of faith that appears to be futile. It scares you as you walk through the town forced to see the times turn dark. It hurts you to see this place you call home turn dark.

As you enter your small wholesome home, closing and locking the door behind you, you slide down to the floor leaning against the wooden door that blocks out the world from you. Helpless and scared is what you believe the people see when they look at you, they do not see the anger. The anger towards the Gods for doing NOTHING! Hot tears begin to stream down your face as you stand up tossing off the headpiece of your habit onto your small old wooden table. 

Body stopping when you glance over at the table with your coif on it along with the book you discovered days ago and have yet to read. The book is old, damn near ancient by the way is smells and felt, you felt on the table when you discovered it. It had a  _ strange  _ aura around as if purposefully buried under the floorboards of your kitchenette. The cottage you call home once belonged to a woman, your “aunt” who raised you. Your family died many years ago on the road leaving you to wander to safety. From the age of ten, you were homeless until she took you in.

You still smile remembering her kindness.

Taking a seat causing the chair to creak, you take the book placing it in front of you. Studying the strange marking on it before opening it to a random page; your eyes widen at the sight before you. Words of a foreign eerie language, pictures of nearly offensive nature. You cannot stop looking away.

“W-what--,” You cannot believe what is right in front of your face. “ **What the fuck is this?!** ” Is all you can say right now.

Your aunt… No… But the book and the lettering and drawings… Demons?

Getting rid of the book makes sense! Grabbing the book as you stand abruptly, you feel a sharp chill run down your spine. Back away, knocking over the chair in the process, the book shuts loudly. You back away holding your rosary beads for dear life.

It cannot stay here!

So you buried the book in the garden out back. What else could you do? After the dreadful session running down your spine, you knew you will have to get rid of that unholy thing and soon! Just how is the only question. A question you wished to ask Father Valerius… You shake your head. He might think… People right now in their lowest point desperate for something or  _ someone _ to blame.

It scares you.

Your eyes stare out the window of your bedroom at the fresh patch off upturned dirt in the garden. Holding yourself as the sun goes down and the moon rises. It is a new moon tonight, darkness covers the land. You leave a candle out to ward off demons.


	2. Faithful

Father Valerius, you wonder how he keeps calm in the heat of the people shouting outside the church demanding answers neither he nor you can answer. Each word he speaks it like hearing the choir at the break of a Sunday dawn singing the people awake to ready for church on special days. Some are easily quelled while others fight, yelling right into his face. You are scared for the one you hold dear.   
“I can only answer you as a follower, sir,” He places a hand on the man’s shoulder. “The Gods have a reason that we cannot see for the moment, but we must trust in them.” Father Valerius is a wonder, a marvel you cannot help to wish to be closer too. Yes, you have taken the oath to be the bride to the Gods… It does not stop the curious thoughts that slip into your mind. “Everyone, the church is here for you!” Arms out as he gestures to the calming down crowd. “We are in this together.” He is amazing.

Valerius wants to gag on these words, pathetic weak human too blind to see this is their end. The plague is not one caused by their  _ Gods with a reason!  _ Valerius knows it caused by the stupidity of humans, filthy uncleaned humans. Honestly, he finds it humorous that most of the problems these fools want answers are right their nose. Turning around his walks back inside the church empty of holiness. Now his taint is all over the walls, his power oppressing the people.

Once evil is invited there nothing to be done about.

“Father are you okay?”

Except for those like you so faithful, so willing to give everything for others. You, if trained, might be able to save this church from his influence. If he had not been your type, heh.

He sits down behind his desk in his private study, leaning against the seat as if stressed out, “I will be fine, sister.” It is hard not to say something sly to see how you react to it. “Right now we should be worrying about the influx of bodies…” Putting on a grim face. “The graveyard is being overfilled and I fear we will have to do burnings.” You small gasp is cute. “It will be hard to tell the people, however, we must protect those from the sickness.”

“... I understand, Father.” A second of silence as you rub your hands, “Are you afraid?”

“No, not truly,” He stands up walking around his desk then leans against it with his palms resting on the edge. “I have faith in our Gods,” Valerius takes both your hands drawing them close to his chest. “And you.”

It is so easy to see you neatly melt under his gaze with him touching you. Your thoughts racing with ideas of weddings and wedding nights.  _ Adorable, really _ . As well as very simple.

“I'm scared,” Confessing your fears to the wrong person. “Of death and the people, and I just want this to be over,” Tearing up as you talk. “What if the Gods--” Then you stop short when your body is pressed up close to the Father's, heart beating a mile a minute as your cheeks darken from a blush. Your fears seem so far away, the darkening world for the moment in his arms it feels brighter.

“We can do this.”

The Gods punished humanity for breaking one law; though this law was broken when they gave humanity the gift of emotions and free will. Both are messy in their own way as well as wonderful.

Valerius breathes in your sent when you hug back.

_ I love you, Valerius. I love you so much. _

Love, one of the sweetest tasting essences to have. There are wines made of it along with the various types of Love one can experience.

He releases you with a smile, “Thank the Gods for delivering such a faithful sister to the flock.”

* * *

Coming home to empty home long ago had no one with only a few books you borrowed from a neighbor when you wish to read something besides the book of the Gods. Usually, the emptiness never truly bothered you after you grew used to it once your aunt had passed away, plus you had become accustomed to loneliness during your life as an orphan on the streets. It made the choice to become a ‘Bribe to the Gods’ easy. Until the new Father took over the church in your village. Valerius is kinder than the one before from what other brothers and sisters have said. Most wonder though who is his mother given the last Father's scandalous nature. Given you had limited interactions with the past Father, you only go by the words of others.

You are glad Father Valerius is nothing like the old man. Not because of what others would say, no, because you would have broken your holy vows.

You are a flawed creature, one of many humans born into sin as punishment for the  _ Firsts’ Defilement. _

Yet, the Gods created Valerius who you have come to secretly love. Would it be wrong too-- “Yes, it would be!” Talking to yourself as you make dinner for yourself. “You made a vow damn it! To remain pure until your time to join the Gods in heaven.” You say the words only to not believe them.

Long ago the emotion of love never popped into your mind, never. Now, you are lost in this internal conflict between your vowed lifestyle and your blasphemous heart. “Gods, help me.” Setting down a plate for yourself at the table.

Another dinnertime alone, another silent night, another candle set out to ward off demons.

 

When morning comes, a new day begins, though it is the same as all these past days in the growing months. You sit up from your bed holding the blanket close to you as your warm body adjusts to the cold morning air. The candle set out last night now melted away, the air smells of salt from the shoreline miles away. The sun is rising through the horizon.

All this you have become numb too. Somethings has stayed the same yet changed so much.

Getting up once awakened enough to begin your day. Your religious grab is started to feel like a ball and chain rather than an honorable second skin. You only hope it does not show in your face.

 

The town becomes colder, quieter,  **_empty_ ** .

It is slow the first time the plague came into the land, like a stalking wolf preying on a flow of sheep. It slips in taking the old, all the town assuming it is just frailness of the elderly; old sheep to weak to fight. Next, the children who lived on the streets, you knew well. The wolf takes the outcasts. Then the adults. The wolf became embolden. Now it no longer hides in the shadows like a wolf, it hunts free in this land taking anyone it wishes.

Once more you speak to the family, growing smaller by the week, as they lay to rest their oldest child.

“Today we mourn the lost a child,” Each death does not make these words easier spoken nor completely numbing. “Taken by the Gods to be freed of their pains. They wait to see the family you gifted to them into the new life.” Hard not to cry with the hysterical mom crying over the wooden plain coffin with her child's body inside.

Death is becoming a part of the daily route, this amount of death should not be normal.

As the funeral ends, you walk back into the church quietly keeping to yourself as some sit at the benches praying. Those in the church clean the statues, light incenses or setting up fresh candles. Glancing up the statue of the Gods, you wonder if they are even--

“Sister (Y/N),” Your heart nearly skips a beat as Father Valerius walks up to you. “How are you feeling?” He is the only one who seems to care these days. “I understand the burden of delivering prayer and comfort during a funeral. If is any consultation: you did well.”

You want to cry in his arms, let him kiss your pain away. You want to be every bit of selfish with him.

“....” It shames you these desires you have for him when you are betrothed to the Gods. “I wish I could do more, Father.”

Valerius can practically taste the conflict in your heart, smell the desire, hear your thoughts that scream out to him. “I know.” He gestures you to walk with him. “In times like these, we must be steadfast in our faith, now more than ever.”

“I know, Father.” Soft and full of doubt.

He stops in front of an isolated spot in the church where some go to pray in private. “There is something on your mind isn't there, sister?”

You wince internally.

He sighs, “We do not have to discuss it here if you do not wish.” Playing you like a fiddle as he acts out the part of the perfect Father of the church. “However, I am here for you, sister.” Your racing thoughts cause his mouth to water, fangs aching to embed themselves into the skin of your neck.

“Thank you, Father.”  _ Gods, if only you'll hold me again.  _ “I guess the stress of all these deaths,”  _ I don't want to be alone in this life anymore.  _ “Fear is becoming a common feeling nowadays.”  _ Please, Gods, let me have this one. _

“I completely understand.” Touching the side of your face as he brushes away a tear from your cheek. “If I may I will like for you to join me tomorrow,” That hope in your eyes pulls at his based need to devour your soul. “In a gathering.” 

_ By the touch of Gods’ light! Did he? I feel mocked. _

“Sometimes we do not realize how little time we have until it taken from us. I enjoy the company of you and fellow brothers and sisters, please join me if you can for dinner tomorrow evening.” When he takes his hand away Valerius internally laughs at your panic thoughts of his warmth leaving yours.

_ Gods just for one night… please have I not done enough in this life? _

Oh~, you poor silly human.

.

.

_ (Valerius’ POV) _

.

Love, like desire and anger, is an emotion that has been around far before yourself or even Valerius was created. It is strong like desire and passionate like anger. It is a tidal wave of emotions as well as sensations. It one of the finest tastes he found when drinking his blood wine. He has tasted yours before when you cut yourself when preparing food for the sick and elderly. He took the napkin you tossed away when cleaning up, inhaled the scent (unseemly at that which he hated how fiendish it appeared). The knife he took when offering to clean while you banged the cut covered in fresh blood. Love gives an unlimited high when it is in its truest form.

He tasted  **_so much_ ** .

There is a story about a man who made perfume out of Love, it came from the blood of a young lovestruck woman. Love is power… As well as hard to collect. Specifically  _ True Love _ . It is addictive along with being rare to collect.

The demon Valerius became one with was once a holy creature who blessed marriages; he oversaw marriages and bonds between people. Over time his calling became used for politics and bonds used like gambling cards.

Marriage became a joke.

Love became unbelievable.

Yet, few, a happy few who believe and search for Love are around. Those souls, flesh, and hearts are savored by the demon. Valerius long ago would simply devour them as any demon would, however as he aged and witnessed as well as tasted the fruit of Love-- He wishes to bask in it. You, a treasure, have been found to be the perfect human to have as his pet until the end of time.

In the shadows of the night, he stalks the town's grounds until he is drawn to your home. The candle at your window allowing him to see partially into the living room. He moves around to see the candle at the window in your bedroom. Yes, he can see you, beautiful untouched you, resting like a tup obvious to the cruel dominating world.

The many nights he watches over it takes his willpower not steal you away. To taint you violently and bask in your screams.

No, instead, he pours oil in the flames of desire in your dream.

Valerius favorite dream he witnessed is about the holy union between you and himself. Your wedding dress changes every time but not how he, the Valerius in your dream, makes you into a woman.

Valerius favored this dream because he can equally picture fucking you on the altar before the statues of your Gods, within the corrupted house of worship.

Of  _ course _ , the fantasy held more  _ consensual  _ elements with every bit of  _ vanilla-ness  _ that nearly makes it also boring. You are a missionary position type, a sweet words type, a joyful type (playful too), and cuddly type too. Adorable, really.

The candle is blown out upon him entering your room through the shadows, if you were to wake up you could only see a faint outline of his demon form.

He will show all once he is ready to claim you.

You moan his name in your sleep, a whisper his demonic hearing picks up on quick. He is addicted to you. A fiend craving so much but forced to wait. The hands going under the blanket to feel your bare legs is as much self-control as he has left. A quick feel-- “I love you.”

Valerius’ jaws ache, claws twitching to pierce the skin.

* * *

The gathering sets a better mood in the people still remaining, the demon can smell the false hope in the air. After the beginning weekend sermon, Valerius publicly announced a gathering, for everyone to join him in his ‘childhood’ home. There is hesitation in a few given all the turmoil in the air, but with you by his side…

That heart of yours could even make the old feel young again, an evil king turn from his ways,  _ a demon to lie in wake to claim you as his own _ .

It is not ‘purity’ that gives this air about you, Valerius would go bored of you quickly that way; is the fact you  **love** what you do, you believe in it no matter the internal struggle he causes you.

Hope, faith, maybe some naivety, and add love into the mix.

“Father, you seem to know what people need even when the darkness appears to be overwhelming,” You praise him so eagerly and earnestly. “Thank you.”

Honestly, the only thing holding him back is himself with the reason of fearing he will devour you too soon.

Damnit!

“Sister, I cannot take all the success for myself; you must know that--” A finger on his lips stops his performance of ‘Father Valerius’. Your smile is kind, always welcoming, unphased by the world's pains. “Take my praise solely for yourself, Valerius,” You are bold today. “You deserve the credit.” Your finger lingers for just a cruel teasing second before it is taken away. “Your home is very beautiful too, Father. Do have more gatherings.”

His robes hide well his hard on from the praise and touch.

He hates how you toy with him while keeping your word in faith. That only in mind, you are a sinful creature, barely, very vanilla.

**_A tease._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been feeling like writing for this fandom anymore but I started this fanfic and gonna finish it. So here we are

**Author's Note:**

> *shows up 84 years later*


End file.
